A Friend Too Long Left Wanting More
by Winterlyn Dow
Summary: Sometimes friends can become more to one another, and sometimes it's just not meant to be. Part 3 in the series "Need In the City That Care Forgot." Gendry's POV during the same time frame as the other two pieces. New Orleans modern AU with angst, bros, and Halo. Rated T but has a small amount of naughty language in in.


**A/N: Part 3 in the series _Need In the City That Care Forgot._ This one-shot is Gendry's POV from the same time frame as _A Girl Too Long Away From Home_ and _A Man Too Long Without the Light._ I'm not sure that this POV adds a lot to this universe, but it has been on my mind for months, and it was fun to write. However, be warned: lots of meandering dialogue, angst, and unrequited love ahead. There is a Pinterest board for this story as well as the others in the series. You can find it by searching Pinterest for Winterlyn Dow or for _A Friend Too Long Left Wanting More._**

* * *

Gendry Waters stood on the front steps of a rambling St. Charles Avenue home ( _mansion,_ he would mentally correct himself whenever he thought of it), watching his best friend and his best friend's little sister: Jon and Arya Stark. The pair physically favored each other a great deal, having the same dark hair and gray eyes, different than the rest of the ginger-headed, blue-eyed Stark children. Though they resembled each other as much as any brother and sister could, they were actually cousins by blood. Legal siblings owing to Jon's adoption by his uncle, Arya's father, the pair was close despite their nearly five year age difference.

Gendry looked on as the two Starks played on the lawn, taking turns spraying each other with a garden hose. It was a hot and humid, a typical August afternoon in New Orleans, and the water offered them some relief from the heat. The only reason Gendry didn't join his friends was that he hadn't brought a change of clothes and nothing of Jon's was likely to fit him. Over the last few years, he had grown very tall, his shoulders very broad, while Jon remained lithe and lean. As his friends continued to drench themselves, Gendry looked on with envy.

The girl twirled and danced around in the cool rain Jon was creating by sending arcs of water high into the air. When Arya delicately raised her arms level with her shoulders and spun in a circle, Gendry thought she looked something like a ballet dancer, one of those perfect little jewelry box figurines that rotated slowly, accompanied by metallic strains of _Swan Lake_.

The thought of Arya Stark doing something as ladylike and demure as ballet (or even owning a pink, tinkling jewelry box) almost made Gendry burst out laughing. She was (and always had been) a little savage, just as likely to strangle someone with a tutu as wear it. Still, for a girl so rough and tumble, he could not deny that she surely was graceful. He supposed the fencing helped with that. He'd been to more tournaments than he could even remember, supporting her alongside her family, and when she flew at opponents with her epee or foil, it was like watching the hero in the best kung fu movies. Arya was fluid, precise, violent perfection.

He took a sip of the lemonade Mrs. Stark had given him only moments before, gazing at the youngest Stark girl over the top of his glass. Jon caught his eye briefly, and for a second, it seemed like the Stark boy was frowning at his friend. But then, it was hard to tell. Jon was so serious most of the time, the look could simply reflect his default state.

Arya was soaked, her dark tank and tan shorts clinging to her slight frame like a second skin, her long braid dripping, rivulets of water cascading down her face and neck. The water gave her a certain sheen. To Gendry, it seemed as if she were glowing in the late afternoon sun. As she laughed, Jon surprised his sister by suddenly changing the direction of the water spray, pulling it from over Arya's head and aiming it at her face. The girl thrust her hands up defensively, squealing and vowing revenge.

"You're gonna be sorry you did that!" Arya cried, grinning. "I'm gonna get you!"

"You'll have to catch me first, little sister!" Jon chuckled, dropping the hose and taking off in a run. Arya gave chase though the pair was laughing too hard for serious pursuit or evasion.

Gendry laughed too. The scene reminded him of countless summer days, thirteen years worth of them, just like this one. This was nothing new; when the trio decided to seek respite from the oppressive heat by playing in the water, they were simply doing something they had done since they were small children together. Almost involuntarily, his mind drifted back to their earliest days together.

And that was how Gendry found himself feeling nostalgic.

When Gendry and Jon first became friends, they were almost six years old, and Arya had only just learned to walk. She was the youngest of the Stark children at the time, Bran and Rickon yet to be born, and she toddled after her favorite brother like a tiny duckling following its mother. Whenever Gendry came to the Stark house to visit Jon, Arya was invariably there, underfoot, trying to eat Jon's Legos or demanding to be carried around on Gendry's shoulders. She had practically grown up clinging to his and Jon's legs.

 _Baby Stark,_ Gendry thought wistfully as Arya did a cartwheel on the lawn. But she wasn't a baby anymore. When had that happened?

It was so strange, he thought. He was no longer a kindergarten terror missing a tooth, Jon wasn't the sad little boy in his adopted brother's shadow, and Arya wasn't the toddler who called him "Gin-gee" because she couldn't say his name properly. Was the world destined to continually change all around him? As Arya grabbed up the abandoned garden hose and turned it on her brother, Gendry sighed, and his blue eyes looked a little troubled.

They were too old for this sort of thing, really. Gendry thought they all knew it, but no one wanted to say it. They were unwilling to acknowledge the truth, that things were necessarily changing. There was nothing for it, and perhaps it made them all feel a little helpless and desperate on some deeper level of which they were only partially aware. He and Jon were going back to LSU for their sophomore year in another week and Arya would actually be a sophomore when her high school started in mere days. Gendry found that particular fact very disconcerting because until very recently, whenever he thought of Arya Stark, he conjured the mental image of a fourth grader in crooked pigtails. How could she be a sophomore?

It didn't help his state of mind that years ago, the Stark parents and Arya's exclusive private school had jointly decided it would be best for everyone involved if Arya skipped a grade. Apparently, she had intimidated the fifth grade teachers to an uncomfortable degree and so she had moved up to middle school rather earlier than was planned. So really, if things had followed their natural course, she would only just be starting her freshman year.

It was a thought that didn't make Gendry feel any better. She was younger than her peers; younger than the boys in her class who would certainly be asking her to dances and football games and movies. His protective instinct surged then, watching Arya chase Jon around a pear tree in the corner of the yard. For all of her book-smarts, for all of her toughness, for all of her weirdly-developed intuition, Arya was still so innocent; still just a kid, really, even if she didn't look much like one anymore. Gendry's grip tightened on his lemonade glass and he decided then and there that if anyone ever hurt Arya Stark, they would have to answer to _him._

* * *

"Arya!" Catelyn Stark called from the kitchen.

"What is it, Mom?" the girl called back, momentarily distracted from the video game she was playing with Gendry and Jon. Gendry used the opportunity to take her down with a head shot.

"Sorry, Master Chief," he laughed as she elbowed his ribs.

"Would you come into the kitchen, please?" her mother requested.

Sighing, Arya stood and dropped her controller on the couch between her brother and his friend.

"I expect a rematch when I get back," she grumbled, trudging off to see what her mother wanted.

Arya returned after five minutes but instead of picking up her controller and rejoining the game, she put her hands on her hips and stood in front of the TV, blocking the screen and keeping the boys from playing.

"You might be a skinny squirrel," Gendry teased, "but we actually can't play through you."

"Arya, what's wrong?" Jon asked, quick to pick up on the girl's mood.

"Well, apparently I'm not presentable enough to drop a cake off to the new neighbor next door, so I'll have to forfeit this game, go take a shower, and find something to wear that makes me look less like a hobo and more like the daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark before stepping outside." She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, looking down at her bare feet. Gendry looked at them too. Bright blue polish was chipping off of her toenails.

Jon sighed and stood, walking over to his little sister.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't think she means it to be harsh." He pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. Gendry marveled at his friends. Jon, so serious, so fiercely protective of his sister, was almost as much father figure to her as he was brother. It was strange, the boy thought, that Arya had two such people in her life, Ned and Jon Stark, when Gendry didn't have even one; not really. He could be jealous, he supposed, but how could he begrudge little Baby Stark anything?

"Besides," Gendry chimed in, rising from his seat and approaching the pair, "your mom doesn't know that looking like a hobo is a large part of your charm."

His teasing worked. Arya stopped looking dejected and punched him in the arm while Jon smiled and shook his head at them.

"Go on, take your shower," Jon said, swatting Arya's bottom and sending her off in the direction of the front staircase.

"Will you two still be here when I get back?"

"Sure," Gendry answered before Jon had a chance to. In truth, they were meant to be leaving for the fishing camp already, their last summer trip before classes started again, but for some reason, he felt the urge to stay a little longer. "In fact, I'll even walk you over next door to drop off the cake."

Jon gave his friend a look that said, _What the hell, man?_ Gendry ignored it.

"No, you don't have to do that," the girl called as she left the room. "I know you two want to get on the road."

And that was how Gendry found himself having a conversation with his best friend that he would never have wanted to have in a million years.

When she was gone, Jon said, "We should have left an hour ago."

"It's not like we're punching a clock, dude. Besides, you may not to see your family again until Thanksgiving. Don't you want to spend as much time as you can with them?"

Jon ignored the question and demanded, "And what was all that about walking Arya over to the neighbor's house?" He sounded suspicious.

"Can't a guy be nice?"

"I dunno. Can you?"

"Hey, the guy could be a serial killer for all we know. What if he yanks her into his house and locks her in the basement?"

"Houses don't have basements around here, idiot, and he's not a serial killer, he's a lawyer."

"You can be a serial killer _and_ a lawyer."

Jon's eyes narrowed as he regarded his friend. Gendry felt the pace of his heart quicken.

"As long as it's really just about you being _nice_ ," Jon finally said.

"What else would it be about?"

"I saw you looking at her earlier when we were outside. I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Gendry was beginning to sound irritated.

"That look where your eyes are glued to some girl's ass!"

"Hey! Not cool, bro! Do not talk about your sister's ass to me!"

"Gendry," Jon said, sighing, "Arya's not a little kid anymore, but she's still too young for _you_."

"Aw, dude, you're disgusting!" Gendry laughed, and the sound was perhaps a little forced. "I've known her since she was in diapers! She's like a sister to me."

"Okay," Jon relented. "Let's just make sure it stays that way. I don't want to have to kill you."

Gendry nodded and they both sat back down to resume their game. Jon went on a sudden killing spree, catching his friend off his guard several times as Gendry's mind wandered. Half an hour later, Arya reentered the den to find Jon taunting Gendry over the most recent score which was uncharacteristically lopsided.

"Well, I'm off to my new job as the driver of the welcome wagon," the girl joked. Her hair had been dried and freshly braided and she was wearing a navy blue top held up by thin straps with white shorts and flip flops. Gendry thought she looked cool and crisp, like a model in a magazine ad.

"I thought your mom said you were supposed to look _less_ like a hobo," he teased.

"Well, there's only so much to work with here," Arya replied with a shrug. Gendry felt a pang then. He had expected her to growl at him, or punch him as she typically did when he teased her. He hadn't expected her to look so deflated. He wanted to hop up and wrap her in his arms, to let her know it was just a joke. He wanted to hold her tight and tell her she looked gorgeous, saying he was just being stupid. He wanted to kiss her cheek so he could feel her smooth, white skin beneath his lips. He wanted all that, but after what had just transpired between him and Jon, he didn't dare.

"Don't listen to him," Jon said. "You always look beautiful." He rose and walked over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"You have to say that because you're my brother."

"No, because I'm your brother, I wish you were as plain and homely as could be. As it is, I forsee having to drive three hours round trip every weekend to kick some boy's ass if he tries to lay a finger on you. You're going to cost me a fortune in gas!"

Arya told Jon to shut up and pushed at his chest with her palm, looking both embarrassed and pleased at the same time. She left the room to get the cake that Catelyn had left on the kitchen counter and then came back with the mint green box cradled in her arms. The pink ribbon tied around it reminded Gendry of the satiny little ribbons Catelyn had always tried to keep in Arya's hair back when Arya still let her mother do her hair; ribbons that always ended up lost on the playground, or in the school hallways, or in the backyard where the three friends would climb into the tree fort, playing Peter Pan (Arya always wanted to be Captain Hook and no matter how much Gendry insisted she had to be Wendy, or _at least_ Tinkerbell, she never gave in).

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Gendry asked her. "I don't mind at all."

"No, that's okay."

"Waters here is afraid our new neighbor is a serial killer and is going to drag you to his basement if you go over there alone," Jon revealed, rolling his eyes.

"Houses around here don't have basements, stupid," Arya snickered, giving Gendry a sardonic look. "The water table... duh!"

"Whatever," Gendry replied. "You'd think you'd be grateful I even care."

"Oh, I am, I _am_ ," Arya assured him in her best Scarlett O'Hara voice. "A little old gal like me couldn't possibly take care of herself. I'm ever so grateful that such a fine, strappin' gentleman like you would take up the cause of my safety!"

Both of the Starks burst out laughing then.

"Y'all suck," Gendry told them.

"Oh, don't sulk. You're just an easy target, G," Arya replied.

"I just have crappy friends, you mean."

Arya shook her head and walked towards the couch, stopping in front of Gendry. Careful to keep her cake box level, she bent down and kissed his cheek lightly.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You're not stupid, and you're a good friend." She straightened and then looked fondly down at Gendry's face.

"Thanks, princess," he replied, watching her expression sour as he used the nickname she hated. "Coming from you, that means a lot. Only, don't kiss me in front of your brother. He seems to think I have dishonorable intentions regarding your ass."

Arya whipped around to face her brother.

" _What?"_ she cried.

Jon looked startled and Gendry silently congratulated himself for turning the tables.

As Arya glared at Jon, Gendry thought he understood her reaction. As the three of them had grown older, there was a delicate balance they all had to work to maintain in order to keep things from becoming awkward between them. For Arya's part, she could no longer traipse around in nothing but cowboy boots and a plastic tiara like she did when she was two years old. Jon couldn't discuss in great detail what was running through his mind when he watched any movie starring Emma Stone. And when asked how he spent his weekend, Gendry might admit to having gone on a date, but he left out the parts that included him picking up his clothes from some sorority girl's bedroom floor the next morning.

Feeling guilty for disturbing their fragile symbiosis, Gendry jumped in to deflect Arya's ire from Jon.

"Don't worry, princess," Gendry soothed. "I don't think he meant it. He was probably just trying to distract me so he'd actually have a shot to beat me at Halo for once."

His ploy was a success. Arya stopped scowling and snorted as she pointed at the score still frozen on the TV screen.

"Looks like it worked. Honestly, Waters, that score is an embarrassment."

"Your toenails are an embarrassment," he countered. "That polish is at least two months old!"

"Am I the only one here that finds it weird that Gendry just commented on my nail polish?"

"No. No, you're really not," Jon replied. He looked over at his friend. "Dude, seriously."

"Again, y'all suck," Gendry declared. "Next time we play, you're both going down hard. Now, go deliver your cake, little neighborhood pastry nymph. We have to hit the road. It's more than two hours to Grand Isle and I have to stop by my house to get my bag." He flicked his hand towards the door, a gesture he meant to be dismissive. Arya just laughed.

"Have fun, boys," she said, saluting with one hand as she balanced the cake box in the other.

"We'll come see you before we leave for school," Jon promised, kissing her cheek. Gendry had risen and walked over to the girl, throwing an arm around her shoulder and squeezing her into his side.

"Yeah, we'll give you one last chance to gaze upon our handsome faces before we leave. It'll be nice for you to have the memories to cling too when we're gone."

"Oh, good Lord," the girl moaned. "I hope the girls at LSU know what they're in for when y'all hit campus."

"Princess, no one is ready for all this." Gendry grinned, running his hands over his broad chest.

"I think I just threw up a little in my mouth," Arya groaned, pulling away. "I hope you can fit that big head through the door. Be careful on the road."

"No worries," Jon said reassuringly.

The trio walked out together and parted ways in the driveway, the boys getting into Jon's car and pulling out onto St. Charles Avenue and Arya rounding the wrought iron fence that separated the Stark's property from that of their new neighbor. Gendry and Jon waved as they drove slowly past her and then she pushed her way through Jaqen H'ghar's front gate.

* * *

Jon and Gendry had been back at school for just over a month when Gendry walked into their apartment and heard his Stark roommate on the phone. From the tone of the conversation, he had to be talking to Arya.

"No, not yet," Jon was saying, "but I've been pretty busy. I have a heavy class load this semester. I haven't had much time for anything else. But how is school going for you? How did your fencing team do at the tournament?"

Gendry looked at his friend and mouthed, " _Arya?_ " Jon nodded.

"I'm not trying to change the subject!" he insisted then, "I just don't have any news to report."

Jon's brows drew together and he rubbed at his forehead like he was getting a headache. It seemed like Arya was giving him an earful.

"Well, I'm in some pretty high level math classes right now, and then physics..."

It seemed she had interrupted him then. He stopped speaking abruptly and frowned.

"It _means_ that there just aren't that many girls in my classes and..."

Gendry smirked as he watched his friend's facial expressions change at a rapid pace.

"No, Arya, that is _not_ sexist. How can a fact be sexist? I can't help it if there are a lot more guys than girls in my classes and therefore..."

Gendry, feeling sorry for his friend, held out his hand for the phone.

"Hold on, you little tyrant, Gendry just walked in and wants to speak to you." Jon handed his roommate the phone then and mouthed, " _Good luck._ "

"Hi, princess," Gendry greeted.

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Why do you think I do it so much, silly girl?"

"Can't you do something about Jon?" Arya demanded, ignoring him.

"What do you think needs to be done?"

"When was the last time he had a date?"

"Uh... I'm... _what_?"

"He and that girl broke up last year and since then, I think all he does is mope."

"Ygritte," Gendry said. She had been an Irish study-abroad student and the pair had decided a trans-Atlantic relationship was not really practical when it came time for her to go back home. But that had only been four months ago.

"Yeah, her. I mean, you're a man-whore, Gendry. Can't you spread the wealth a little? Have some pity on my brother."

"I'm a man... what are you... _Arya_!"

"Oh, you thought I didn't know? Come on, give me a little credit."

"I don't know what your brother has been telling you, but I'm not a... _man-whore_."

"Okay, fine. Let's just say that you have a healthy and busy love life, then."

Gendry huffed into the phone. He really didn't like the turn the conversation had taken and it didn't help that he could hear his roommate laughing at him from the next room. He attempted to steer the subject away from his personal life.

"Jon isn't pining for Ygritte, if that's what you think. He's just really busy. His schedule is insane. But don't worry, I'll make sure he comes up for air every now and again."

"Thank you," Arya said. "That's all I ask."

"How about you? How has school been?"

Arya launched into a ten minute rant about the dumbing down of the American educational system, the absurdity of typical high school girl's desire to be part of a clique, and the overabundance of idiotic boys who were clearly beneath her notice. That last part made Gendry smile.

"There is this one guy on the fencing team of a rival school, though..."

Gendry's smile dissolved.

"His name is Edric."

"Eric?" Gendry repeated distractedly.

" _Edric_. Edric Dayne."

"Oh, Edric."

 _It was a stupid name._

"He asked me to his school's homecoming dance already. It's like a whole month away. I was wondering if that meant I should invite him to mine. I mean, two homecoming dances... It seems sort of redundant, don't you think?"

"Did you say yes?"

"Well... I couldn't think of a reason not to."

"Arya, if you don't want to go, you don't have to go. If he's pressuring you..."

"No, I want to go, I think. He wouldn't pressure me. I mean, he's nice. He's not stupid like the guys in my class. It's probably because he's older."

"He's _older_? How much older?" Gendry demanded.

"Um... I dunno exactly. He's a year ahead of me, so he's probably two years older. But, he's really smart, so he might have skipped a grade, too, I guess."

"Two years is too much, Arya," Gendry chastised. He could hear the girl snort on the other end of the line.

"So, a twenty year old shouldn't date someone who's twenty-two? Or, a thirty year old shouldn't marry someone who is thirty-two?"

"It's different when you're a teenager. It's like dog years or something. Every year is like five! This guy is ten years older than you in maturity!"

"There are seven dog years per year," the girl corrected, sounding exasperated.

"Even worse!" the boy cried, recognizing that he was starting to sound hysterical. He drew in a deep breath to regain his calm. "Have you told Jon? What did he say?"

"I didn't get a chance. He pawned me off on you before I could."

"So, you're going to a dance with some guy you just met?"

"Don't sound so judgey, G. Anyway, I've known him for years, ever since I started fencing."

"How come I've never heard of him, then?"

"We were just casual acquaintances. I only ever saw him at tournaments and we really didn't talk much until last year. He lives across the lake, in Mandeville, so it's not like we ever went to the same school."

"Well, are you dating this guy? Is he your boyfriend? Cuz, I gotta say, I'm not comfortable with that."

"Relax, Dad, I just said that we only see each other at tournaments, didn't I? But he did mention something about a party next weekend."

 _A party? Across the lake?_

"Well, you can't go!"

"What?" the girl said, sounding incredulous.

And that was how Gendry found himself scrambling for a quick lie to make him seem less insane.

"I mean, Jon and I are coming home."

Jon poked his head through the door, staring at Gendry with an open mouth.

"What?" Arya cried excitedly. "I didn't think y'all would be coming back until Thanksgiving!"

"We were going to surprise you," he lied, "but since it seems like your calendar is booking up fast, I thought I'd better tell you."

Gendry tried to ignore Jon staring at him.

"Well... I haven't told Edric I would go with him for sure. He'll understand. There's no way I'm missing out on seeing Jon!"

Gendry cleared his throat and the sound was expectant.

"Oh, you too, Waters. Don't be so sensitive!" Arya laughed. "And tell Jon I want him to take me to Arnaud's!"

"If he won't, I will," Gendry promised, "and then brunch at Brennan's before we leave Sunday." From the corner of his eye, he saw Jon fold his arms across his chest and lean against the door frame, looking at him pointedly. "Gotta run, Baby Stark. Got a lot of work to do if I'm gonna be free for the weekend."

"Okay. Tell Jon I said bye. See you Friday!"

When Gendry hung up the phone, Jon immediately launched into him.

"Why would you tell her that? I have a ton of studying to do! I have a physics test Monday!"

"So, you'll study on the way down and the way back."

"I get car sick," Jon growled.

"Look, you'll thank me when you realize what I've done," Gendry insisted.

"And what's that?"

"I just saved your sister from getting in over her head. Did you know some skeevy older guy has been hitting on her? Do you really think she's prepared to deal with that at her age?"

"Older guy? Jaqen?"

"Who's Jack N.?"

" _Jaqen._ The new neighbor," Jon answered. Gendry looked confused. "You know, the guy she brought the cake to a few weeks ago?"

"Why would it be some old lawyer? I'm talking about a high school guy. What kind of a name is Jaqen, anyway?" Gendry muttered.

"Oh, okay. It was just that she was talking about Jaqen before she began her interrogation about my love life."

"What? She was? What was she saying?"

"I don't know. Just that he's really interesting, and he has an accent."

Gendry's eyes narrowed but he shook it off. Edric was their pressing problem. Jaqen could wait.

All of Gendry's efforts amounted to little more than thwarting Arya from attending one party on the Northshore (and thwarting Jon from getting an "A" on his physics test, if his brooding friend could be believed. Personally, Gendry had his doubts). In the end, she did go with Edric to his homecoming dance and she invited the little blonde nitwit to come to hers as well. It was a pattern that repeated itself the next year, too, when Arya was a junior and Edric was a senior, but by then, Gendry had grown comfortable with the boy. It wasn't that he thought Edric wasn't interested in Arya, because Gendry was certain that he was. Rather, it was that Arya only seemed interested in him as a friend and fencing partner and Edric seemed to accept the fact amiably enough.

Besides, if it could be said that Edric got Homecoming, then for a certainty, Gendry got Mardi Gras. He had been attending parades and other social events with the Stark family for as long as he could remember, hoisting Arya up on his shoulders so she could watch the bands and floats and dance teams pass. That much, at least, had not changed. In the greater scheme of things, Edric Dayne turned out to be completely harmless.

The same couldn't be said of Jaqen H'ghar, though.

She talked about him, for one thing. Not a lot, but enough. And whenever Gendry saw them interact, there was a strange sort of _ease_ in the way they spoke, and in their body language. It was hard for the boy to put his finger on, but he knew he didn't like it. He had also learned that his impression that Jaqen was _old_ was completely wrong. Gendry supposed he had a preconceived notion about what a lawyer living in the Garden District would be like, and that notion turned out to be inaccurate in this case. Sure, Jaqen was too old to be suitable for Arya, but he was still a young man, and handsome, with an air of mystery about him.

Gendry worried that this combination of traits would be like cat-nip for a young and impressionable girl.

What surprised Gendry most of all was how no one else appeared to notice what was going on, or care. As strict as Arya's parents could be, they never seemed concerned when Jaqen and Arya put their heads together and whispered over the 4th of July cochon du lait or talked a little too long over the fence which divided their yards. And if ever he mentioned anything about it to Arya's brother, Jon just laughed, telling him he was paranoid.

But it wasn't paranoia, Gendry was sure of it. There was just something _off_ about the whole situation. Still, he couldn't accuse the guy of anything improper. He might not like that Jaqen seemed to be around nearly as much as Gendry himself (and probably more; who knew what went on while he was away at school?) and he might not like that a grown man with a successful law practice seemed to have an inordinate amount of time to dedicate to a teenage neighbor, but he had no proof of anything, really. It was just a feeling...

A feeling he didn't like.

* * *

Through the years, it was often hard to find time to visit, but Jon did try to come home on weekends and holidays when it was possible. Usually, Gendry tagged along. Still, their senior year in college was busy and so it wasn't until October that they managed a trip back to New Orleans, and only then because they had gotten tickets to see one of Arya's favorite bands at the House of Blues. Gendry also knew that homecoming was approaching and with Edric off at Notre Dame ( _the best men's fencing program in the country,_ Arya had told Gendry. Like he cared), he thought he might offer to take Arya. As friends, of course. He figured she'd be grateful for the lifeline.

He rather liked the idea of being her savior.

Jon had a three o'clock class on Friday (honestly, the guy had no idea how to schedule classes), so they didn't leave Baton Rouge until rush hour, which added some time onto their commute. Gendry let his friend know whose fault that was.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Jon asked. "We aren't even visiting your uncle until tomorrow. We have nothing planned for tonight, anyway."

But neither did Arya. She had told them as much when they called to let her know what time they would be arriving. No plans meant they could all hang out together, watching movies or playing Halo or... just talking.

"I just hate traffic," Gendry mumbled.

"Relax, man. Turn on the radio or something."

They pulled up to the St. Charles house just after seven that evening. As they were getting their bags out of the trunk, the front door flew open and the younger Stark boys burst out onto the porch, calling to their brother.

"Jon!" cried ten-year-old Rickon. He took a running leap over the steps, landed in a crouch and then sprang up, bounding towards the driveway. Gendry swore the boy was half-wolf. Bran was a little more dignified. He was fourteen now, and anyway, he had never been quite as exuberant as his younger sibling.

"Hey guys," he called as he trotted down the steps. "Do you need any help with your bags? And why are you so late, anyway?"

"Blame your brother," Gendry groused, throwing his duffle over his shoulder. "It's good to see you, Bran."

"Is it good to see me, too?" Rickon demanded. Gendry ruffled the boy's unruly auburn mop.

"Of course, Max!"

It was a little joke between Gendry and Rickon—it wasn't just that _Where the Wild Things Are_ was the boy's favorite book when he was younger, he was also so much like the main character that it was as if Max had stepped off the page and come to live in the Stark home.

"I want to carry something! I want to carry something!" Rickon declared, yanking Jon's bag from his hands. Before Jon could say anything, the boy took off in a sprint across the lawn and leapt up the stairs two at a time.

"His ADHD meds have worn off," Bran told them, rolling his eyes.

"You don't say," Jon deadpanned.

"Is everyone home?" Gendry asked the boy.

"Just us and Arya," Bran replied. "Sansa had a date and Robb is at a study group. He has some big project that's due next week. Mom and Dad are here, but they're about to leave. You were so late, I thought you were going to miss them."

As they walked toward the house, Gendry felt the hairs on his neck prickle. He had that sense of being watched, but he shook it off and patted Bran on the back, asking the boy about school. As soon as they crossed the thresh hold, Arya flung herself at Jon, jumping into his arms. It was a ritual Gendry had witnessed time and time again. The pair spun in a circle, Arya's lean legs wrapped around her brother's waist, her cheek pressed against his neck.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she declared.

"I missed you, little sister."

Ned walked into the foyer just then, smiling at his adopted son and shaking Gendry's hand.

"Boys, it's good to see you."

Jon set Arya down and gave his father a hug. The two men clapped each other on the back and then parted.

"Jon," Catelyn said as she approached. She nodded her head slightly. Cordial, but not exactly loving. Gendry had always found the relationship between Catelyn Stark and her nephew odd. Jon didn't like to talk about it much, but Gendry often thought that one of the reasons they were such good friends was that they could empathize with each other about their family situations.

"I hate to greet and run, boys, but Catelyn and I have a dinner tonight. I would have canceled when I found out you were coming, but..."

"But it's for charity," Catelyn interrupted. "And we're going to be late, darling." She patted Ned's arm as she spoke and he smiled at her and then at Jon.

"Of course. But we're taking you boys out for breakfast in the morning."

"Sounds good, Dad," Jon said. "Enjoy your evening."

When they had gone, Arya looked at Jon with her wide, gray eyes.

"Sorry, I know she's not always as warm as..."

"It's fine," Jon said dismissively. "I've had my whole life to learn to live with it. Besides, you more than make up for her."

Arya finally greeted Gendry.

"It's good to see you, WB."

WB. _Waters-Baratheon._ She knew he hated it. She had finally found a nickname that got under his skin the same way it bothered her when he called her princess or skinny squirrel. His father had been a sore subject of late, taking a sudden interest in his son and trying to insert himself into his life more and more. Gendry had always used his mother's name but recently, his father had begun to pressure him to change it legally, offering him all sorts of incentives to do so. Gendry wasn't naive enough to think it was purely fatherly affection that was governing Robert Baratheon's actions. There were rumors that his father's high profile marriage was souring and Gendry figured that Robert's sudden interest in his oldest son was just a weapon he was using in his domestic war.

The group ordered pizza and settled in to watch a _Star Wars_ marathon (Rickon loved Chewbacca and watching _Star Wars_ seemed to be one of the few things the boy could do without bouncing off of the walls the whole time). The youngest Stark boy only lasted half-way through _The Empire Strikes Back_ before he conked out on the floor.

"I'll take him up," Jon volunteered. Bran followed, saying he would see them at breakfast. The sudden departures left Gendry alone with Arya. She had been sitting in between her brother and his friend, but when Jon left, she curled herself into Gendry's side.

"You're warm," she remarked, sighing.

"I'm not that warm. You're just practically reptilian!"

"Well, that's flattering."

Gendry smirked and pulled her in closer.

"Oh, I like reptiles. I had a pet iguana when I was younger."

"I remember. It gave you salmonella."

Gendry sighed, "Yeah. Poor Rodrigue had to go live on a farm after that."

Arya snorted.

"Listen, princess," the boy began, ignoring her growl at the nickname, "I know your homecoming is next weekend, and since you don't have a date, I thought you..."

"Oh!" Arya interrupted excitedly. "Didn't I tell you? Edric is flying in from South Bend!"

"What?"

"Yeah, he called me last week. He didn't think he'd be able to go at first, but he talked to his coach and got permission to miss practice. I thought it was really sweet of him to even bother."

"Yeah, that Edric Dayne is one sweet guy."

"You have never liked him," Arya accused, pulling away to look at Gendry's face. Gendry pulled her back toward him and tucked he head beneath his chin.

"I don't _dislike_ him. I just don't think he's good enough for you."

"You're just saying that because you're like my big brother."

"Yeah," he said flatly. "Because I'm like your big brother."

"Well, you should be grateful to Edric, then. Two other guys from school asked me and they're both _notorious_ poon hounds."

"Arya!"

"At least Edric can behave himself."

"Well, he'd better," Gendry growled.

"Hey, do you want to see my dress?"

 _No, he did not want to see the dress she was wearing on a date with Edric Fucking Dayne._

"Sure."

And that was how Gendry found himself giving fashion advice to a teenage girl.

Arya dashed off and came back holding a garment bag. Jon was close on her heels.

"What's this?" her brother asked.

"I was going to show y'all my homecoming dress," the girl explained. "I found it in a vintage shop in the Quarter."

"Aren't you going to put it on?" Gendry inquired.

"I wasn't planning to. I was just going to show you..."

"Arya, I think I speak for all men when I say that when it comes to clothes on a hanger, we have zero imagination. If you want an opinion, you're going to have to be wearing the dress," Gendry explained.

"True story," Jon agreed.

"Oh, okay then. I'll be back in a minute."

When she came back, she was wearing a crimson dress that hit her just above her knees. It had a black petticoat that peeked out a little from beneath the hem. The outfit reminded Gendry of Betty Draper from _Mad Men._ Arya looked beautiful, the red against her fair skin both dramatic and flattering. Gendry made a sour face.

"Wow, Arya, that's really perfect for you," Jon declared. "I love it."

"Then why is Gendry making a face like he just stepped in dog crap?"

"It's... I dunno..." Gendry cleared his throat and tried to arrange his face so he looked less put off. "It's the colors. There's just something about black and red that's... _wrong_ for you."

"Really? Huh. I don't know much about this stuff, but I've always been told that red was one of my better colors."

"Don't listen to him, little sister. He's crazy," Jon told her. "You look gorgeous and I'm happy to see you did it without a plunging neckline or showing your thong straps."

"I don't wear thongs, Jon."

"Ugh! Stop! I don't want to know!" Jon cried. "I can't know about your underwear!"

Arya rolled her eyes, saying, "You brought it up, Bubba."

"I know. I'm sorry!"

"Are you sure about the black and red?" Gendry persisted. "Those are the Atlanta Falcons colors you know. You don't want to offend your city, do you?"

"Gendry, no one is going to see this dress and think I'm a Falcons fan. It'll be fine."

"Still, I think we should look for something black and gold."

" _We?_ "

"Maybe with a fleur de lis on it somewhere."

"You want to take me shopping for a homecoming dress in Saints colors?"

"Yeah. We can go right now."

Arya pursed her lips and shook her head at the boy.

"You're ridiculous. I'm going to go take this off..."

"Please do!" Gendry laughed.

"And go to bed," she finished.

"Aw, Arya, don't be like that!" Gendry said. "I'm only trying to help."

She snickered, "Yeah, you're super helpful. Thanks."

She hugged Jon and said goodnight.

"I still love you, princess!" Gendry yelled after her. "Even if you didn't tell me goodnight!"

"Goodnight, stupid!" Arya called from the stairs.

Jon looked at his friend for a moment and then said, "God, could you be any weirder?"

Gendry shrugged.

* * *

Jon and Gendry were away most of the next day, first for breakfast with the Starks (sans Arya, who had left early for a weekend practice with the fencing team), then on a long visit with Gendry's Uncle Tobho (who had raised Gendry after his mother died), and finally on to an obligatory dinner with his father. It wasn't something Gendry relished, but he could only put Robert off for so long. The man was nothing if not persistent. It had gone as well as could be expected, which was to say it was awkward and painful, but at least Jon had agreed to go, too, which took a little of the pressure off. In the end, Robert had manged to press a set of keys into Gendry's hand. He was gifting the boy a car.

It wasn't an expensive car or even a new car. In fact, it was old enough to be considered classic now, a Datsun 280z. Gendry had an affinity for the model, having helped his uncle restore a few over the years, and since the subject of cars was one of the safer things he could discuss with his father, he supposed Robert had picked up on that detail. In truth, it was a thoughtful gift, even if the motive behind it was likely less thoughtful.

"I know you already have a car at school," Robert was saying, "but you can keep this one down here, at your new condo."

"Dad," Gendry started to protest. His mouth curled distastefully around the word. It still felt weird for him to say it to Robert. "I haven't decided for sure if I'm even moving back once I graduate. I still have to find a job."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Robert cried. "Of course you're coming back. I have enough connections here to guarantee you a job. It would be stupid to look anywhere else. You'll be set up here, and believe me, that's no small thing when you're first starting out."

 _And it was no small thing to owe Robert Baratheon a favor._

"I don't know..." Gendry said.

"Well, you don't have to decide right now. There's plenty of time before graduation. Now, Jon, how's that pretty little sister of yours doing?"

Gendry bristled at that. Anyone else might think that Robert was referring to Sansa, but he knew his father meant Arya. Robert had always seemed to take a keen interest in the girl, ever since Gendry was old enough to notice such things. And ever since he was old enough to notice such things, it had bothered Gendry.

When the boys were driving back to the Stark home, Jon was on a tear.

"I think it's great that your father is trying to make up for being such a deadbeat for so long..." he began.

"I'm not exactly sure that's what he's doing," Gendry muttered, "but whatever."

"But I wish he wouldn't be so creepy about Arya!"

"I think he's just nostalgic about your mom," Gendry said.

"Yeah, that's creepy too. They broke off the engagement before she died. He's been married to someone else for twenty years. It's time to move on already."

As they pulled into the driveway of the St. Charles house, Gendry told his friend not to mention the conversation to Arya.

"Why would I?" Jon asked.

Gendry shrugged. Jon just looked at him strangely, said, "Ok," and then got out of the car. Gendry followed, but he was immediately overcome with that same feeling of being watched that he noticed the night before. Again, he shook it off and bounded up the front steps after his friend, meaning to collect Arya so they could go to the concert. She was waiting impatiently in the foyer for them.

"It's about time!" she said. "What kept you?"

"Dinner with daddy," Jon told her in a low voice. "Ease off a little..."

"You met with your father?" Arya asked Gendry, her tone softening. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine. Let's just go."

As Arya walked toward the door, Gendry caught her gently by the shoulder.

"Don't you want a jacket? It might get chilly tonight."

She shook her head, protesting that it would likely be overly warm at the concert and she didn't want to have to keep up with a jacket all night, anyway. Gendry looked at Jon.

"I'll bet you ten bucks that she's begging for one of our jackets before the night is over."

"That's not a bet I'd take," Jon laughed. "I know she will!"

"Then _I'll_ take the bet!" Arya said. "Easiest ten bucks I'll ever make."

"Are you kidding?" Gendry laughed as they exited the house. "Jon, when was the last time we went somewhere wearing jackets that she didn't end up stealing one?"

"Probably six years ago, back when her mother could force her to wear one."

"You two insisting that I _look cold_ and foisting your smelly old jackets on me isn't exactly the same as me begging for one," the girl sniffed indignantly.

"I'll have you know that this jacket is the finest that Army Surplus has to offer!" Gendry cried, pretending to be affronted.

"Army Surplus?" Arya queried with feign confusion. "I thought you had to get all your clothes at the Big and Tall store. I didn't think they sold moose sizes at Army Surplus..."

"Oh, it's on!"

Arya laughed and took off in a trot to keep ahead of Gendry. Her efforts to outrun him were short-lived and he caught her from behind, wrapping his thick arms around her waist and swinging her in a circle while she protested that she would puke if he didn't stop.

"Put me down!" she insisted, squealing as he tickled her ribs.

"Not until you say the magic words!"

"Gendry, I swear to God!" the girl growled.

"The magic words, princess, or else!"

"Ooh, I hate when you call me that!"

The boy laughed, telling her that he knew, then adding, "But those aren't the magic words."

With that, he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her to the car. Arya alternately laughed and cursed him. Just as he was about to put her in the backseat of Jon's car, movement on the front porch next door caught Gendry's eye. _Jaqen H'ghar._ Arya's creepy neighbor was watching them. At the look on the lawyer's face, Gendry smirked.

 _It seemed more than one person around here had the capacity for jealousy._

Instead of putting Arya down so she could get in, Gendry moved her into his arms, cradling her like a baby. He gently placed her in the back seat and lingered over her for a minute, brushing her disheveled hair back over her shoulders.

 _If the guy was gonna stare, then he'd give him something to stare at, by God._

Arya slapped his hand away.

"Are you high, Waters? Let's go!"

"God, try to be _nice_ ," Gendry grumbled playfully. The boy closed Arya's door, got into the passenger's seat and then they were off. They drove to Marigny, the neighborhood that bordered the French Quarter, and parked at Gendry's uncle's place. Parking in the Quarter on a Saturday would be a nightmare, so they just decided to walk along Bourbon Street until they hit the Bienville to cross to Decatur where the House of Blues was located. When they pulled up to Tobho's house, Arya asked about the car already in the driveway.

"Did your uncle get a new Z to work on? It's nice. It looks like it's already been restored!"

Arya wasn't a car expert, but she'd tinkered around with Jon, Gendry, and his uncle a few times over the years.

"No, this one's mine," Gendry told her, but he sounded embarrassed.

"You don't sound very happy about it," Arya remarked.

"I'm not sure I am," he replied. "It's from my father."

"I've told him to enjoy it and not think too hard about it," Jon told her. "So far, he's not listening."

Arya cocked her head and looked up at her friend. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She walked over to him and reached up to place her hands on either side of his face.

"Is it any wonder?" she asked.

Gendry looked down at her then, meeting her gray eyes. He could see that she understood. It was strange. Arya Stark, a girl who had only known what it meant to be surrounded by loving family who cherished her and wanted to protect her, understood what it was he was feeling; how he felt betrayed by his father, and in turn, felt that to accept gifts from the man now somehow equated to him betraying his dead mother.

"We should go," the girl said gently, taking Gendry's arm. "It's about a twenty minute walk and I want to get there before it gets too crowded."

The weather was beautiful and cool, a crisp October night with clear skies and a full moon. The friends made it to the concert venue in plenty of time and it didn't take long for Jon to meet a girl there. She bought him a drink.

"You look like you could use it," she told him. She introduced herself as Mel (when Jon asked her if that was short for Melanie, she simply answered "No" and gave him an enigmatic smile) and before Arya knew what was happening, Jon had been whisked off.

"Jon has always had a thing for red-heads," Gendry said as he and Arya watched the pair depart.

Arya smirked, saying, "Thanks to Miss Clairol, his dating pool has expanded."

When they finally found him later, he was a little worse for wear, his arm draped over Mel's shoulders as they carried on a slightly slurred conversation. When the concert was over and Mel's number was typed into Jon's phone by Mel herself, the trio left the House of Blues for the walk back to Marigny. They took the Bourbon Street route again where Jon's inebriation would be seen as par for the course. When they reached the quieter end of the street, though, his companions took turns telling him to keep his voice down and stay on the sidewalk. Jon loudly insisted that he _was_ being quiet and kept trying to cross the street for no reason his sister or his friend could discern.

"I forgot how frustrating he is when he's drunk," Arya groused, rolling her eyes.

"I'm... not... derrrr-runk!" Jon said, clearly drunk.

"Aw, cut him some slack. He hardly ever does this," Gendry chuckled.

"Do you think he could stay with you and your uncle tonight?" Arya whispered to her friend. "I don't think Mom and Dad would be happy if he fell down the stairs or puked in the foyer."

"I _ssssaid..._ I am... not... derr-runk," her brother slurred again. Apparently, his inebriation had sharpened his hearing.

"Oh, you're ridiculous, Jon!" Arya scolded, then cried, "Watch out!" She grabbed her brother's arm as he stumbled over a small, uneven spot in the pavement.

"Sure thing, princess," her friend said, ignoring his roommate. "I'll just tuck him in and run you home."

Arya gave Gendry a grateful squeeze of the arm.

Once Jon was settled on Tobho's couch (Arya heard him snoring before they even left the room), Arya told her friend that she would take Jon's car and they could come by in the morning to pick it up before leaving to go back to campus.

"No can do, Baby Stark," Gendry laughed. "There's no way I'm letting you drive home by yourself."

"I'm not even tired," Arya protested. "And it's not very far, anyway."

"You only have a learners permit!"

Arya rolled her eyes.

"Only because I'm not allowed to take my driver's test until my birthday. But really, what are the chances I'll actually get caught?"

"No way," Gendry said adamantly. "Besides, don't you want to ride in my new car?"

Arya grinned. "Don't you mean your old car?"

"It's new to me!"

"Well... can I drive?

"That depends. Can you drive stick?"

And that was how Gendry found himself in an empty warehouse parking lot at eleven o'clock at night, playing the role of driving instructor. By the end of it all, Arya was fairly proficient at handling a car with a manual transmission and Gendry was in a much better mood than he had been earlier in the evening.

"You're a good teacher, Waters."

"A compliment? I can die a happy man now." He gave her a lopsided smile as she parked the car. "You make me happy, Baby Stark."

"Well, you deserve some happiness."

 _When she said it, he could almost believe it._

Gendry felt the sudden urge to lean over to her and kiss her, but he reined it in. He had to remind himself that she was still sixteen. He had to remind himself that Jon would kill him. He had to remind himself that something like this could ruin their friendship.

He had to remind himself of the delicate balance.

He watched as she reached over to turn on the radio they had turned off to prevent distraction during her lesson. She fiddled with the dial until she landed on an oldies station.

 _Arya had always appreciated the classics._

She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed.

"It's not like Jon to get so drunk," she said, staring through the windshield at the stars.

"I think he had some encouragement. _Mel_."

"I wondered if something else was going on with him."

Gendry shrugged. "Nothing I know of. He's really been fine. I think he's over Ygritte, if that's what you're worried about."

Arya snorted.

"He's _not_ over Ygritte. Do y'all even talk about that kind of stuff?"

"Not really," Gendry admitted.

"Then how would you even know?"

"I figure if something really bothered him, he'd tell me."

"You do realize that we're talking about Jon Stark, right?" Arya asked rhetorically. "You think he'd voluntarily talk about something that was bothering him? Honestly, Waters, he's supposed to be your best friend and it's like you don't even know him at all!"

An immediately recognizable voice came over the radio just then, interrupting her chastisement. Arya sat up suddenly, grinning at her friend.

"Otis Redding!" she exclaimed. "I love this one!" She reached for the radio knob to turn it louder. As she did, Gendry opened his door quickly, getting out and jogging around the car to her side. She watched with confusion as he passed in front of the headlights and then opened her door.

"Come on," he urged.

She thought he meant to switch with her so he could drive her home so she hopped out and started to round the car but then felt her friend grasp her firmly around her waist. Before she could ask what he was doing, her pulled her in close to him and then they were dancing, strains of music floating out from the car and into the night.

"Wow," she said after a few seconds, "I see why you get so much play at school. You pull off painfully handsome and hopelessly romantic really well."

"That almost sounded like another compliment," Gendry said looking down at her, "right up until the part where you called me a man-whore again."

"I didn't..."

"You implied it. Anyway, what do you know about the kind of _play_ I get at school?"

"I hear things," she told him lightly. "And anyway, just look at you!"

Gendry spun Arya in a slow circle.

"Arya, I'll admit that I haven't always been the most... _chaste_ guy around..."

This admission caused her to burst out laughing but he persisted.

"...but things are different now. I don't know, maybe I just grew up, but I'm not that guy anymore. And I haven't been. Not for some time."

"Oh? Well, who are you, then?"

"Who do you want me to be?" he asked softly, pulling her in closer to him. She turned her head, resting her cheek on him. He could feel her smile against his chest.

"Why does that matter?" she wanted to know.

"Because it does."

Arya drew her head back and looked up at her friend, his face illuminated by the headlights of the car his father had given him. She smiled at him, but her face wore an expression of concern.

"I want you to be the guy who's happy with himself," she finally told him. "I want you to be the guy who doesn't blame himself for the things he had nothing to do with. I want you to be settled and content. I want you to know that it's okay to take what's freely offered to you without feeling like it's some sort of betrayal."

 _She means the car, stupid._

"Arya, I..." Gendry stopped short when he felt her shivering in his arms. "Oh, God, you're so cold. Here, take this." He slipped his jacket off and put it around her shoulders.

"No, I'm fine, I don't need it."

"Don't argue with me, princess."

Arya huffed, "Fine. Just be sure when you recount this tale, you don't fail to mention the fact that you offered. I didn't _beg._ "

"Deal." It wouldn't be a hard promise to keep. He had no intention of discussing what had passed between them this night anyway.

"I guess I should get home," Arya said as the song ended. "Thanks for all this, though. You're the best. Seriously."

"I'll remind you of that the next time you're mad at me."

She smiled at him and he walked her to the car, closing her door for her as she fastened her seat belt. When he got in, he looked over at her and grinned.

"Before we leave, how about we see what this thing can really do?"

And that was how Arya Stark and Gendry Waters found themselves leaving tire marks all over the empty parking lot of a closed warehouse.

When they finally started the drive back to Arya's house, Gendry tried to make small talk.

"Did you find what you were looking for today?"

"Hmm?" She was fiddling with the radio again.

"Didn't you say yesterday that you were going to go to Magazine Street and find something for your mom's birthday?"

"Oh, yeah! I did. I got her an antique cat figurine."

"She'll like that."

"I think so. It was so weird, though..."

"What was?" Gendry asked.

"I ran into Jaqen at the streetcar stop."

 _Jaqen._

At the mention of Arya's neighbor, the boy's grip tightened on his steering wheel just a bit.

"Oh? He went out at the same time you did?"

"No, he apparently left much earlier. I saw him at the stop on the way home. We sat together on the streetcar. That wasn't the weird part, though. The weird part was that he'd been shopping at the same store as me earlier that day. I saw his bag. I mean, what are the chances? Isn't that wild?"

"Yeah. Wild."

 _Wildly suspicious._

"He's such an interesting man," Arya continued, seemingly oblivious to Gendry's rising ire. "I have a feeling that he's a man with a lot of secrets."

"Arya, do you really think you should be hanging out with some guy who is full of secrets?"

"What are you talking about?" she laughed. "We weren't hanging out. We happened to run into each other."

"Still..." Gendry said weakly.

There was something about the tone of her voice when she spoke about Jaqen that Gendry didn't like. He couldn't quite identify what it was, but she sounded entirely too... _intrigued._ The boy was torn; he wasn't sure if he should steer the conversation in a different direction or pump her for more information about what had gone on between her and her neighbor. In the end, he couldn't figure out what to say, and so just listened as Arya meandered through various topics: her mom's approaching birthday, her worry about Jon, her application process for college, _Edric Fucking Dayne,_ how much she enjoyed the concert they had just gone to, and how much she appreciated the driving lesson.

"It makes me want to get a stick shift so I can be like the great Gendry Waters!" she teased. They were near her house then, so she punched a few buttons on her phone. One of her apps allowed her to open the gate when she was half a block away. Gendry swung the car smoothly into the Stark driveway and put it in park.

"Home sweet home," Arya said. "Don't forget about mass in the morning."

"We'd better shoot for the later one, don't you think?" Gendry asked. "I'm not sure Jon will be up for early mass with your parents."

"Good idea, WB. I'll tell Dad I want to go running first and then y'all can come pick me up for the eleven o'clock mass. Think you can have him in shape by then?"

"I can try."

Gendry got out and told her to wait, that he would open her door. Before he could make it to her side, however, she was jumping out, teasing him about treating her like she was too fragile to take care of herself.

"I'm not some dainty little prom queen!" she insisted.

"Yeah, you're more like some dainty little serial killer," he laughed. Predictably, she punched him in his arm.

As he walked her to the door, he was overcome with the feeling of being watched again. He started to wonder if Arya's neighbor made a habit of staring at the Stark house. Gendry tensed a little as she patted her pockets and dug around for her keys.

"Why don't you just keep one under the mat?" he asked sarcastically. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Sure, stupid. That way anyone could murder us in our sleep."

When she finally found the key, she slipped Gendry's jacket off and handed it back to him, thanking him for it. He teased her about how cold she always was and invoked an old story that he knew irritated her; the _stuffed squirrel_ story _._ As he laughed, he saw that she was going to punch him again, but instead of letting her, this time he caught her small fist in his hand.

He wasn't sure exactly what it was—their dance earlier, her talk about wanting him to be happy, or the fact that he was fairly sure Jaqen H'ghar was watching—but this time, when Gendry felt the urge to kiss Arya, he didn't rein it in, completely disregarding all concern for their delicate balance. He moved his fingers from her clenched fist to her wrist, pulling her in close to him and bending his face towards hers. He thought he read some sort of realization, some growing desire in her gray eyes, but that quickly turned to panic and at the last second, she turned away from him and he kissed her cheek.

Arya, it seemed, could not disregard the balance.

He laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation and released her from his grasp. Arya cleared her throat, sounding uncomfortable, and thanked him for the ride.

"No problem," he assured her. "What was I gonna do, let Jon bring you?"

"Yeah, well, tell him I said he holds his liquor like a freshman sorority girl."

Gendry laughed and planned to tell his best friend exactly that once he was conscious again.

"Goodnight, princess," he said as he walked down the stairs.

"Goodnight, stupid."

She said it with a fondness that made him grin. He watched as she unlocked her door and once she was safely inside, he jumped in his car and pulled out into the street, still smiling.

* * *

The holidays passed in a flurry and soon enough, it was carnival season in New Orleans. Gendry missed a large portion of it, staying in Baton Rouge most weekends, claiming school was keeping him too busy to make the trip home. There was some truth to it, of course, and there was also the element of avoiding his father who was exerting almost unbearable pressure on Gendry to live the life Robert had all planned out for him. But more than that, he was avoiding Arya, though it pained him to do so. Ever since _The Kiss That Wasn't_ , he had been questioning himself; questioning what it was he really wanted, and what was best for all of them, Jon included.

Still, when Mardi Gras break rolled around, he knew there was only one place he wanted to spend it. Typically, Gendry tagged along with the Starks to the parades, lifting Arya up on his shoulders so she could actually see, catching throws to give to the younger boys, and enjoying that fleeting feeling of _belonging_. It had been that way for years. He didn't suppose he could really make up a believable excuse to break with tradition now, and he wasn't sure he would want to, anyway.

And that was how Gendry found himself at the back of a large group comprised of the entire Stark family and invited friends, weaving their way along the Endymion parade route, heading for their traditional spot. It was all so familiar, so comfortable. It was the same way he had spent every Sunday before Mardi Gras for the past sixteen years. Well, _almost_ the same way. There was one notable difference.

 _Jaqen H'ghar._

Gendry wasn't sure who had invited the German, but he was less than pleased.

"There's something about that guy," Gendry grunted as he and Jon brought up the rear of the group.

"I know. He's way too cool to be a lawyer," Jon agreed.

Gendry cut his eyes at his friend, saying, "I'm pretty sure you know that's not what I meant."

Jon just laughed and shook his head. They walked along in silence for another block before Gendry suddenly swore out of the blue.

" _Fuck_. Fuck that smarmy kraut bastard!"

"What?" Jon asked, looking up at his friend, mildly alarmed. "What are you going on about?"

"Your fucking neighbor. He's so... smarmy."

"Jaqen?" Jon asked, confused. "He's not smarmy."

"Oh, yes he is. He's sketchy as hell, and he's smarmy."

"G, do you even know what smarmy means?"

Gendry looked annoyed.

"It means I hate his stupid face."

Jon rolled his eyes a bit, saying, "Okay. Whatever, man."

They lapsed back into silence and kept walking.

Sansa and her younger brothers were about five feet in front of the two friends and Jaqen was walking next to Arya a few feet beyond that. They were all following Robb, his fiance Jeyne, Ned, and Catelyn. When Ned found a good spot, they stopped. Everyone chatted, waiting for the parade to start, and Ned and Catelyn made small talk with neighbors and friends while trying to keep an eye on Bran and Rickon (the youngest Stark, having skipped his Concerta that morning, was particularly animated). Gendry glared at the back of Jaqen's head while the German spoke in low tones to Arya. Something he said made her laugh and Arya threw her head back. Gendry frowned and started to walk toward the pair, but Sansa stopped him.

"Gendry, Jon said your father is going to set you up in a condo in the Warehouse District after you graduate. Is that true?"

The question caught Gendry off guard. He didn't speak about his father much, and when he did, it was almost exclusively with Jon and Arya. He didn't have much to say about him that was appropriate to share with most people. He didn't even know who his father was until a couple of years after his mom died. When Robert Baratheon learned that he had a son by a woman he had a brief fling with just before he married his current wife, he had been willing enough to support the boy financially, but hadn't offered much else (at least not until recently).

It had never been explicitly stated, but Gendry strongly suspected that was how he and Jon ended up being thrown together—Ned, one of Robert's oldest friends, felt badly about the way Gendry was ignored and resolved to do something about it. It might have been Robert's money that paid his tuition, but it was Ned Stark who had arranged the boy's schooling, enrolling both him and Jon in a well-regarded Catholic school at the age of five.

Jon and Gendry had been best friends ever since and that was how Baby Stark had entered his life.

"It's true, whether I want him to or not," Gendry said wryly. "I think it was his way of saying, _Son, affection can be bought_."

Sansa looked uncomfortable. She would—her parents loved her; cared about what was going on in her life. Sure, they gave her nice things as wealthy parents are like to do for their children, but the didn't give her nice things in lieu of interacting with her or to buy her obedience. They did it simply because they wanted her to be happy.

 _What must that be like?_

"Well, still, that will be pretty nice for you, not having to worry about rent right when you graduate."

"I suppose, assuming I find in job in New Orleans. If not, it's a pretty useless gift."

Despite how true it was, Gendry felt like a jerk for saying it.

 _Who acts bitter about their father giving them an expensive condo in the coolest part of the city?_

"You don't want to leave New Orleans, do you?" Sansa sounded surprised.

Gendry looked over the red-head's shoulder and saw Jaqen squat down and then Arya clamber atop his shoulders. The German stood, Arya now with her legs draped on either side of his neck. Gendry frowned.

"No," he said to Arya's sister. "I'd like to stay. I'm just not sure it's possible. I'll have to go where the job opportunities are."

"Well, with your father's connections..."

"I don't want to rely on that," he snapped.

Sansa was taken aback by his tone.

"No, I know, I only meant..."

Gendry smiled weakly at the girl.

"I'm sorry. That was rude. I just... don't have the best relationship with my father."

"Of course. I'm sorry I brought it up. But you know, if you need any help at all, I'm certain my dad would do anything he could for you."

Gendry nodded.

"Yes. I'm sure he would." He sighed. "Sansa, do you know how lucky you are that you were born into this family?"

* * *

It was sheer bad luck that Tulane and LSU scheduled their commencement ceremonies on the same day. After much discussion, the family split up to be sure both Stark boys had family in attendance. Catelyn, Sansa, and Rickon went to Tulane to cheer for Robb while Ned took Arya and Bran with him to Baton Rouge so they could watch Jon (and Gendry) receive their diplomas. Robert was there as well, which made for a perfectly awkward gathering after the ceremony, complete with inappropriate staring at Ned Stark's youngest daughter and booming declarations of what a nice couple she and Gendry would make.

It was only a week later that Arya was walking across the stage at her school, receiving her own diploma, much to the relief of several of her instructors, judging by the expressions on their faces as she gave the valedictorian's address. Only her fencing coach, Mr. Charbonneau, seemed truly distraught at her leaving.

"You're setting the program back terribly, you know," he told her, kissing her on each cheek after all the tassels had been turned and all the caps had been tossed, "but I'm so proud of you. Remmings! And on scholarship."

"Thanks to you," Arya replied gratefully. "That letter of recommendation sealed the deal, I'm sure."

"Oh, no, cher, it was all your own doing. My letter was a formality. Now, go forth and win gold!"

"From your mouth to God's ears," the girl said hopefully.

Her parents came over then, shaking her coach's hand and making polite small talk. Arya drifted away, finding her siblings and Gendry on the edge of the crowd.

"Way to under achieve, princess," Gendry joked. "You couldn't do any better than valedictorian?"

"Well, you know, I'm not blessed with your enviable intellect," she shot back sarcastically.

"Hey, not nice. I graduated!" he laughed. "But really, great job, Baby Stark. I couldn't be prouder."

The girl blushed a pretty pink.

"Enough with the mushy stuff, Waters," Arya protested, but her friend could see that she was pleased. Jon found her then, picking her up and swinging her around.

"My sister, the genius!" he declared. "Tell me again, how much is that scholarship worth?"

"Enough to justify giving her a new car," her father replied, walking up and hugging his daughter, "but she insists on taking her mother's old Audi."

"Dad, the insurance rates on a new cars are insane, especially since I'm only seventeen," Arya lectured. "When I'm a little older, you can buy me something expensive and sporty."

"My daughter, the actuary," Ned laughed. "Really, honey, your mother and I are just so proud."

She smiled up at her father. Her happiness was impossible to disguise. Gendry knew she would rather hear those words from Ned Stark than have one hundred new cars.

"Don't we have a party to get ready for?" Sansa asked impatiently. "We should get going."

Catelyn came over then, kissed Arya on the forehead, and said, "Sansa's right. Let's get going."

Jon and Gendry gave Arya a ride, dropping her back at home before heading to Gendry's condo in the Warehouse district. Jon was living there temporarily while he started his new job. It somehow seemed more palatable than moving back home, even if it was short term, and Gendry was happy to oblige his best friend.

"It's a lot of space for one person, anyway," Gendry had said. Arya was just glad that Jon wouldn't be alone.

"Don't be late," Arya warned as them she left the car.

"No worries, little sister," Jon assured her. "We just have a bit more unpacking to do, and we'd only be in the way of all the party prep if we stayed here."

Arya gave him a reproachful look, saying, "Yeah, it's not like y'all could actually help out or anything."

"If I know your mom, she's has an army of hired help to do everything that needs doing," her brother told her. " _You_ might even be in the way."

"Nope. Sansa has declared that she is locking me in her room and she's not letting me leave until I allow her to make me, and I quote, _look like a grownup and not some feral urchin_."

"Have fun playing beauty shop, princess!" Gendry called to her as they backed out of the driveway. He couldn't tell for sure what she was yelling at him then, but he knew it would blister his ears if he could hear it.

Owing to the fact that the Ranger's game was televised that afternoon and the ensuing drowsiness brought on by the obligatory beers Jon and Gendry had downed (because, after all, what's a baseball game without beer?), when the boys finally arrived at Arya's party, it was in full swing.

They dropped their gifts off on a table clearly meant for the purpose, already piled high with wrapped packages and crisp, white envelopes that likely contained money and gift cards. The friends had coordinated their presents, Gendry buying Arya an expensive leather satchel just the right size to carry a laptop computer, and Jon buying her the laptop itself.

"Should we go find her?" Gendry asked.

"To cope with the earful she's going to give us for being late, I think I'll need a drink first," Jon replied, nodding his head toward the bar. Gendry laughed.

"Coward."

He started to follow his friend but then noted with displeasure that the Stark's German neighbor had arrived just behind them. Jaqen was holding a small package wrapped in colorful tissue paper, tied together with a ribbon. A book, guessing by the size of it.

 _Lame._

The German was scanning the crowd. Gendry could pinpoint the exact moment the man's eyes found Arya. Almost instinctively, the boy shifted course and quickened his pace, getting to the girl first. Gendry reached out his hand, gently grasping Arya ribs as he bent to place a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes narrowed and he could tell she was about to castigate him for his lateness. Before she had the chance, he began to speak.

"Congratulations. I hear you're leaving us for the Old Dominion at the end of the summer."

It had been a difficult decision for her, he knew, and while he was sad that she would be going so far away, he was glad she had finally decided on the small, impressively expensive little school in the mountains of Virginia rather than Notre Dame. When it came down to it, for her, the difference between the number one and number two women's fencing programs in the country was almost negligible, but Remmings held the trump card: their recent hiring of Syrio Forel to coach the team. For the Remmings team, the future looked bright and Olympic gold was there for the taking.

For Gendry, the difference was merely that Edric Dayne was at one school and not the other.

 _Go, Remmings!_

"Are you trying to break a guy's heart?" he asked.

 _Hopefully Edric Fucking Dayne's._

Gendry was pouring on the saccharine. He made his eyes as soulful as possible. He wanted to distract her from her irritation with him.

"Oh, please, Gendry, as if," Arya snorted. "Don't even pretend like you and Jon didn't have a parade of girls trooping through your apartment on the regular at LSU. I can't imagine much will change at your fancy new condo."

He knew she knew better. He had told her that he'd changed; that those sort of encounters weren't what he was after anymore. He knew her well enough to know that she believed him, too, but ever since _The Kiss That Wasn't,_ she seemed to cling to this superficial image of him. It was like she needed it to shield herself from some deep-down feeling she wished to deny. That's what he thought, anyway. He wanted to talk with her about it, but this just didn't seem to be the place.

 _Maybe later._

For now, he'd let her perpetuate her illusions.

He laughed, letting his hand drift down from her ribs to her waist. At least she wasn't pulling away from him, he noted. What she _was_ doing was making fun of his trendy new neighborhood; the neighborhood his _father_ had chosen for him.

"The Warehouse District, Waters? Really?"

He invited her to come see his new place. He thought she would be impressed. Hell, he certainly had been. Impressed enough to choke down his distaste at his father's heavy handedness and move in all his stuff, anyway.

"Will I have to kick a pile of ladies underthings out of the way to find a place to sit?" she inquired drily. "Cuz that's just gross."

 _She was calling him a man-whore. Again._

"You wound me, princess!" he declared, clutching at his chest as if he were having a heart attack. As he watched her amusement at his antics, he thought she might just give him a heart attack for real. Her eyes sparkling as her shoulders shook with laughter, he had never seen her look more elegant or more beautiful. His laughter died then, and he placed a large hand on her neck, saying, "Good God, Arya."

Her smile faded and a look of concern washed over her face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

 _Not a damn thing._

Jon saved him from having to find an answer to satisfy her. He slid in next to his sister, placing his arm around her shoulders and leaning over to kiss her temple.

"Hello, sweetheart," he greeted. "Did this great oaf apologize for our lateness?"

"Not as such..."

"Well, just so you know, it was _entirely_ his fault," Jon revealed.

"Not cool, dude," Gendry told his roommate. "Besides, it was your idea to turn on the ball game."

"But who brought out the beer?"

"Well, the _first_ one, but the next round was your idea, as I recall."

Arya smirked at them, shaking her head and giving them her best exasperated, _oh, boys_ look.

"While you two losers hash this out, I'm going to go get a drink."

"Non-alcoholic only!" Jon called after his sister as she walked away.

She made an "OK" sign with her figures, holding it high in the air without turning around.

"She's totally going to drink bourbon," Gendry said.

"Totally," Jon agreed.

When Gendry saw Arya sometime later, he felt his lips start tugging at the corners. She was talking to an elderly lady he recognized as her old nanny. Nanny to all the Stark children, actually. It had been a few years since he had seen her—she had retired once Rickon started school and she was no longer as vital to the running of the household. In truth, she was probably ready to retire for years prior, but held out until Rickon started kindergarten.

"Nan!" Gendry exclaimed, joining the woman and Arya. His smile was broad and Nan gasped at seeing him.

"Can this be little Gendry?" she asked, reaching a shaking hand out to pat his arm. "My, look at you!"

Gendry smiled fondly at the lady and then turned to Arya. Whatever he had been about to say froze on his lips as he saw what she held in her hands: a small package wrapped in colorful tissue paper and tied together with a ribbon.

And that was how Gendry found himself thinking he had a real problem on his hands.

"What's that?" he asked Arya, nodding his head towards the gift.

"I'm not sure yet. I thought I'd open it later, after the party."

"Do you want me to go put it on the table with the other presents?" he asked her, reaching out for the package. She pulled it tighter against her, turning away from him slightly.

"Uh, no. I think I'll go put it in my room." She grinned almost sheepishly. "Thanks, though." She turned to her old nanny, saying, "It was good to see you, Nan. Thanks for coming tonight. Excuse me." And then she walked toward the main staircase which she ascended a moment later. Jon came up to Gendry and Nan then.

"Oh my goodness! Nan, is that you?" he laughed, hugging the old woman. Gendry used that moment to escape, retracing Arya's footsteps. He found her in her room, placing her gift from Jaqen on her dressing table, next to a half empty bottle of perfume (Opium), a handful of vintage bracelets, and an odd assortment of brass military buttons. She heard his footsteps as he entered her room and looked up to watch him in the dressing table's mirror.

"I wondered if there was something secret in that package," he laughed. "Some sort of cloak and dagger thing."

Arya turned around and looked at him strangely. He felt compelled to explain.

"You know, because you didn't want me to handle it, then you scampered up here to hide it away." He was only joking, but she didn't seem amused. She shrugged, but offered no explanation.

 _That was odd. Since when did they keep secrets from each other?_

"Arya, is something bothering you?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"You just seem... I don't know. Not like yourself."

 _Secretive._

She claimed that nothing was bothering her. She said it was just having so many people around, all wanting to talk to her, that had her out of sorts. She said she wasn't used to being the center of so much attention. She said she needed a break from the crowd and the heat and the noise.

 _She was lying._

Gendry narrowed his eyes as Arya turned to the side and began to fiddle with the things on her dressing table. It seemed to Gendry that she was trying to look natural; to make it appear that she had come upstairs for something specific. Finally, she settled on her perfume bottle, picking it up and applying a small spritz to her wrist. She raised her wrist to her neck and dabbed some of the perfume there, distributing it.

Sansa had done Arya's hair up in a low and elegant chignon, leaving her neck exposed. Gendry approached her slowly, reaching out to place his hand upon the smooth, white skin there. She looked up at him through the dark fringe of her lashes as he spoke.

"Did I forget to tell you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"You can thank my sister for that. I'm hopeless with makeup."

"No, that's not it," he insisted.

"The hair too..."

"No," he said softly, his eyes trained on her crimson-stained lips.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth the hers and pressed a tender kiss there. When she did not immediately pull away, he tilted his head more and parted her lips with his own, sliding his arms around her sides and urging her closer to him. Instantly, she seemed to melt into him, a small whine escaping her throat. Gendry tensed his mouth over hers for a brief moment before releasing her lips and finding a spot just beneath her ear. He had her jaw cupped in his hands on either side and trailed slow, soft kisses down her neck. Arya was breathing heavily through her nose. He became so lost in her, the feel of her skin against his lips, the smell of her perfume in his nose, that it took him a second to realize that she was pushing him away.

She simply said, "I can't."

Gendry released her face and took a backwards step. He looked down at his feet for a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he replied.

"Tell me why not."

"Because I'm afraid of what Jon will say, and what he'll do."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Arya Stark admitted being afraid of anything."

"I am afraid!" she nearly shouted, startling him. "I'm afraid of ruining _everything_!"

Gendry thought she looked as if she might cry. It startled him. She almost never cried, not for any reason. He moved back toward her, seeking to comfort her, but she held up a hand, keeping him at bay.

"Gendry, I don't have a memory of my life without you in it. I have no idea what that looks like, and I don't want to find out! I'm not willing to take a chance that... might lead to losing you."

"You could never lose me, Arya. That would never happen, no matter what."

She wrinkled her brow and looked away.

"But that's not all there is, is it?" he asked slowly, knowing the answer. "There's something else, isn't there? _Someone_ else?" He looked at the wrapped gift on her dressing table. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. An angry look marred his handsome features.

"Gendry..."

"Arya," he interrupted, his tone a warning. "This guy... Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything."

Her looked hard at her face, trying to see the truth in her eyes, but she kept them turned away, not meeting his gaze.

"No, not yet," he agreed. "But you have something in mind. I can see it."

"Gendry, you're my oldest friend."

He laughed bitterly at that.

"No matter what I might feel or how I might... want to, I just can't risk it. Please don't ask me to," she begged, then added softly, "It's too hard to say no to you."

And that was how Gendry found that his heart was broken.

He looked at her for a long moment, sighed, nodded once, and then, without a word, he left her alone in her room.

* * *

Gendry's summer proved to be busy. He had finally given in and taken the job his father's connections had bought him, just as he had taken the car and the condo and a hundred other little things he never dreamed of accepting, until he did. He tried to live as Arya had suggested, taking what was freely offered without questioning it too much. Some days he felt like less of a fraud than others.

That Arya's rejection had caused a rift between them was something he kept to himself, saying nothing to Jon. He didn't wish to sour another relationship, and besides, he felt it was only temporary. He had meant it when he said that she could never lose him. Their lives were far too entangled. Gendry expected that over time, the tension between Arya and himself would ease. What he did not expect was to find her sitting in his living room when he came home from work three days after the graduation party.

"Arya," he said, his voice a question when he saw her.

"Hi," she said, sounding uncertain. She was in her fencing whites, her hair still damp with her exertion. "Jon picked me up after practice. I wanted to see your new place."

"Oh?" He was surprised. Gendry thought if she ever did come, she would choose a time when he was not yet home, or that she would delay until the wound they had created had healed a bit more.

"Yeah. And... I just sort of wanted to get away for a bit."

At the time, Gendry had assumed Arya was fleeing her mother and her constant expectations. Later, he began to wonder if his friend was trying to distance herself from her neighbor, Jaqen H'ghar. It was purely guesswork on his part, but she had stopped talking about him. On the rare occasion where someone else might bring his name up (such as Jon asking if Jaqen had gotten a new car or Catelyn suggesting they should invite him to their 4th of July party), Arya merely shrugged and looked disinterested.

It gave Gendry hope, but he resisted acting on it. The memory of the last time he'd ventured to press his suit was still fresh in his mind, as was the pain caused by his failure to win her. Arya, for her part, behaved as if nothing had changed, at least after the initial awkwardness had passed. She never mentioned _The Kiss That Wasn't_ and she never mentioned _The Kiss That Was_ and, when they were alone together, if she ever suspected that _he_ intended to bring it up, she quickly changed the subject. The message was clear: if he was willing to ignore what had happened between them, then they could all be the three musketeers again. She had restored the delicate balance.

Except that she hadn't. It was a sham. The only way in which Gendry's feelings had changed was that he was now forced to keep them a secret.

And that was how Gendry found himself living a lie.

When Arya left for college, it was bittersweet for Gendry. He was relieved that he wouldn't be confronted by a fresh surge in his desire for her every time they were together (which was fairly frequently that summer. She seemed to wish to spend every moment either fencing or hanging out at his place with her brother and her _friend_ ). However, he wasn't sure he could imagine her being so far away. Back when it was Jon and him leaving for school, it was easy enough to drive home for the weekend if they wanted to, or if Arya needed them to. That would not be the case anymore.

They texted, of course. Almost daily. Stupid little things, like him saying, _I just saw an old lady on a motorcycle wearing nothing but fishnet stockings and a bikini,_ and Arya answering, _Doesn't she know about helmet laws?_ They talked on the phone a few times a week, usually when she face-timed Jon and Gendry happened to be around. He was disappointed when she didn't come home for Christmas but he understood. The tournament in Paris was an amazing opportunity; there was no way she could skip out on that.

Jon had flown up to see her over a long weekend in February. _An early birthday present,_ he called it. Her actual birthday was during her finals in the Spring and that didn't seem like the most opportune time to visit. Anyway, he just missed his little sister. Gendry had been unable to join them (not that he had been invited), but followed their visit in pictures Jon posted on his Facebook page. Arya wasn't one to post many ( _any_ ) pictures of herself and usually only showed up on her own page in tagged photos from the fencing team (in which her face was almost always obscured by her mask), so it had shocked Gendry to see her smiling at the camera on Jon's page.

She was outdoors and there was snow in the background. The tip of her nose and her cheeks were flushed pink and she was wearing a black knit cap with a red snowflake pattern on it. It reminded Gendry of the time he'd chastised Arya for wearing Falcons colors to homecoming the year before. It made him smile. He saved the picture on his phone.

When Arya was finally due to come home for the summer, Catelyn planned a surprise party to welcome her daughter. She was supposed to arrive around lunch time, but to be sure that they weren't late, Catelyn invited the boys to sleep over at the house the night before. It was the first time Gendry could recall Catelyn behaving as if she wanted her nephew around. Jon was in his old room and Gendry was put in the guest room which overlooked the front yard. After they all retired, he wasn't very sleepy, so he simply stared out of the window, remembering all his summers with Jon and Arya, playing in the water on the lawn below.

A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and Gendry looked to see Jaqen H'ghar walking his motorcycle towards the road. At that very moment, a car with its headlights doused pulled into the Stark Driveway. Gendry recognized the car. _Arya!_ She was early. He snorted. Leave it to Arya to ruin all of her mother's plans.

Gendry saw the youngest Stark girl step out of her Audi and close the door. He straightened, thinking he might go downstairs and greet her on the porch but he saw her jump, seemingly startled. She walked over to the fence which divided the Stark property from Jaqen's and he realized then that Jaqen was talking to her. Gendry leaned in closer to the window, straining to see the pair in the shadows. After a few moments, Arya retrieved a bag from the car, and Gendry assumed that meant she had told Jaqen goodnight and was heading to the house. He dashed out of the room and down the stairs, throwing open the front door.

And that was how Gendry found himself alone on the porch of a mansion on St. Charles Avenue, watching Arya Stark ride off on the back of Jaqen H'ghar's motorcycle.

He stood there for a minute, staring down street as the bike's red tail light grew fainter and fainter, and then turned around and went back inside. Once in his room, he exchanged his pajama pants for jeans, gathered up the few toiletries he'd left in the bathroom, and tossed everything into his bag. Five minutes later, Gendry was in his car, heading home. He thought he should be angry or sad or upset, but mostly, he just felt tired. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to crawl into his own bed and sleep. Tomorrow, he would start figuring out how to be happy.

* * *

 _ **How Could You Want Him (When You Know You Could Have Me?)**_ **-** Spin Doctors.

 _ **I've Been Loving You Too Long—**_ Otis Redding (the song A/G danced to in the parking lot)


End file.
